


Alley Dreams and Illusions

by junko



Category: Bleach
Genre: Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Genital Torture, M/M, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:51:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a strange twist of fic fate, this is a ‘what if’ divergence from my own fic. What if, having seen the alley scene, Aizen suddenly understands the true power Byakuya had over Renji at that moment?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alley Dreams and Illusions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tsukuyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsukuyo/gifts).



> I feel like I failed spectacularly with this fic. It's not hot for what's it's supposed to be, and then it just sort of ends. Happy birthday... f*ck! Anyway, I've decided to post it any way with any hope that some of it appeals to someone somewhere...
> 
> So with apologies to all involved....

Renji was in the Division’s practice yard when he heard a voice.

“I wonder what it would be like to be your master, to have you begging at my feet.”

Spinning, Renji let Zabimaru lash out in the direction of sound. Renji automatically glanced up at the captain’s quarters, a snarl curling his lip. Despite the fact that part of his mind registered that it wasn’t Byakuya’s voice that had spoken, Renji expected to see the captain standing there, looking down on him. But, Byakuya’s usual spot under the double loggia was empty. 

In fact, the whole division was dark, not a soul in sight. It was, after all, well past midnight. Renji didn’t even see the shadowy forms of the sentries at their post on the gate, which was odd. They should be there. Where’d they skive off to?

Exertion from his late night training made Renji’s breath come in huffs. Sweat dripped from his face. “Who’s there?” he called. Standing up straighter, he recalled Zabimaru’s segments. The blade came together with a metallic clicking hiss.

Out of the shadows stepped a figure. Renji readied his blade.

What new enemy would be there? Instead it was… Captain Aizen?

What the fuck was he doing here? What the hell could Aizen want at this hour? How had he gotten past the gate? Someone should have stopped him, fetched Renji to meet Aizen. After all, even though it was past curfew, the guard knew Renji was out here, he’d checked in with them per protocol. 

“Let me guess, you put the kidō whammy on my guys, right?” Renji joked. Because, Aizen wouldn’t do that—he wasn’t the enemy.

The laughter that Aizen let out, however, was cold and set a shiver up Renji’s spine. He should have sheathed Zabimaru, but, instead, Renji’s hand gripped the zanpakutō tighter.

As he moved closer to Renji, Aizen smiled and gave a little nod of acknowledgment. His hands were tucked into his shihakushô. Between the moonlight and his glasses, his face was almost a complete shadow, though his smile shined like the Cheshire cat’s. 

“Where’s your master?” Aizen asked. 

Master? Did he mean Byakuya? 

“Shouldn’t you be tucked in his sheets?” Aizen asked lightly. “Or does he make you sleep at the foot of his bed, like a loyal dog?”

“Oi!” Renji shouted, lifting Zabimaru to point the hook-like tip in Aizen’s direction. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but I ain’t no one’s dog.”

Aizen didn’t slow his approach, despite the blade of Zabimaru being leveled at his chest. “Really? That’s a shame,” he said, as he lifted one hand and started some complex gesture. “I was rather hoping you’d be mine.”

Before he could respond, Renji was suddenly surrounded by falling black plum blossoms. Their sickly sweet smell dragged the air from his lungs. Zabimaru howled as Renji lost his grip. The zanpakutō retracted into its sealed state as it clattered to the hard packed dirt. Renji’s eyes rolled up into his head. Passing out, he crumpled into the dusty ground at Aizen’s feet.

#

Renji startled awake and found himself… naked in the captain’s quarters? A low lamp had been lit, casting soft light around the familiar room. The sounds of crickets drifted in through the window. The light illuminated the bluebell watercolor Renji loved. 

Byakuya lay beside him, propped up on one elbow. The captain’s long-boned fingers stroked Renji’s face, carefully smoothing the hair from his eyes. Renji didn’t remember letting his hair down, but Byakuya’s fingers twirled it playfully.

Their blanket had slipped to pool around Byakuya’s naked waist. 

Naked?

Huh. 

That was different. Nice, but different. Usually, the captain wore some kind of sleeping kimono. In fact, it had become a favorite part of sleeping together for Renji, trying to anticipate what pattern the silk might have this time.

But… naked, that was certainly a treat. What a bummer that Renji couldn’t remember watching Byakuya undress. Well, no mind. Renji’s eyes drank in the pale expanse of pale, flawless skin. Rose-pink nipples stood out like a blush against the creamy expanse, making Renji’s mouth water.

Maybe if the captain was naked like this, it was okay to touch? Experimentally, slowly, Renji raised a trembling hand. Expecting his wrist to be caught half way there, Renji was surprised when his fingertips brushed nude skin—cool, hard and smooth, like alabaster. It was exquisite, if odd, to be allowed so much. 

He tried to read Byakuya’s face, to see if he was overstepping, but his expression was blank—even more so than usual.

Testing his bounds, Renji ran his calloused hand over shoulder and down arm. All of which Byakuya tolerated with a slight quirk of a smile.

Even as he felt himself growing exciting, Renji knew something was off, something was wrong.

Because, even more bizarrely, Byakuya leaned forward into Renji’s touch, like he was craving it. Long strands of inky hair fell in front of his face. He seemed to be waiting, hoping for… what? For Renji to make the first move? What? Could it really be? A moan escaped Renji’s mouth at the thought, and he tightened his grip experimentally.

Byakuya tipped his head back, as if offering his throat.

Dear gods, he was so beautiful like that.

Such a fucking shame it was all a goddamn lie.

Pulling Byakuya toward him, Renji closed his mouth around Byakuya throat. As he nibbled upwards, Renji smelled the truth. The scent was wrong—just under the odor of jasmine and musk there was the sharp scent of rain on pine needles combined with a distant smell of shrine incense, magic. 

And there was no coldness, no resistance… only desire, as naked as this false body. 

Despite knowing it was fake, part of Renji still wanted to take advantage. He pressed himself into Byakuya’s mouth, ravenously, grabbing shoulders so hard that his fingers would leave bruises. 

The tongue that found Renji’s was cool and slick and clever, hungry and wild. The taste of expensive tea was there, but his mouth held the metallic aftertaste of blood.

With his eyes shut, instinctively, Renji sensed the other subtle differences. Was the body an inch or two taller? Were those limbs just a bit thinner than they should be?

Renji scrambled back fast as a picture formed in his head.

“Ichimaru,” Renji hissed, his eyes opening when he felt the wall at his back. But, the deception hadn’t shattered with the knowledge of who was really there. Byakuya stared back at him, looking… disappointed.

Byakuya sat back and smiled patiently. He folded his hands in his lap and cocked his head like a dog, a strange look on the captain. To somewhere off in the distance, he said, “What’d I say, Taicho? Your illusions might be perfect, but I ain’t.”

There was a tongue tisk somewhere Renji couldn’t see. Renji eyes darted around the familiar space of the captain’s quarters, but he had no idea what was real and what wasn’t. Aizen could be standing over him for all he could tell.

“I said we should’ve just tied him up. Now I gotta capture him,” Byakuya drawled. “And I hate fighting this one. He’s slippery, like that snake tail of his.”

“That won’t be necessary, Gin,” Aizen purred.

There was a click, like the sound of a blade sliding back into a scabbard and the room… melted. Yeah, that was the best word for it. Shapes wavered like a heat mirage and resettled into reality. Renji blinked as his eyes adjusted. When everything seemed to be solid, Renji saw that he was, in fact, naked. That seemed to be the only thing that hadn’t changed. 

Instead of being in the captain’s quarters in the Sixth, he was in some dim, dusty, half-empty storage building. Heavy wooden crates were stacked along the far wall. The only light came through a row of windows near the ceiling, where Renji could see that the moon was now high in the sky. 

Renji’s back was pressed against a large wooden crate of supplies. Gin sat, buck naked, on a ratty futon they both shared. The moonlight made Gin’s skin look ghostly pale and, Renji noticed--without really wanting to--that the hair at Gin’s crotch was the same strange wispy silver as the hair on his head. Unlike the illusion-image of Byakuya, Gin’s nipples were the color of his cock, sort of a dun colored.

Aizen stood just to their left, behind Gin. He was fully dressed in his uniform and haori and his hand was wrapped around…

“Zabimaru,” Renji said, his eyes now riveted to the way Aizen’s fingers curled around the scabbard, like his hand was closing around Renji’s own throat.

Zabimaru had long hated Aizen. Renji hadn’t ever entirely known why, but Zabimaru always went into deep retreat near the Fifth Division’s captain. In fact, Renji could barely feel their connection. Did Aizen have some kind of kidō spell on Zabi?

“I watched you, Renji,” Aizen said, as Gin stood up and started to dress. “I saw what Byakuya did to you in that alley. I know what you’ll do to keep Zabimaru safe.”

Renji held his breath as a cold sweat broke out all over his body.

“Why don’t you just go ahead and get on your knees, little pup?” Gin said, as he shouldered into his shitage languidly. 

“Fuck you,” Renji snarled.

But, then Renji felt it, like a little stab, deep in his soul, as Aizen seemed to tighten his grip on Zabimaru. There was a howling whimper that either came from Zabimaru or somewhere deep inside himself. Renji sucked in a shuddering breath, his eyes drawn back to Aizen.

“I’m surprised at Byakuya,” Aizen said, holding up Zabimaru as if admiring its lightning strike guard and crimson tsuka ito in the silvery moonlight. “The spell he used to disrupt your connection is very dangerous. It’s also illegal. It’s supposed to only be known to the Kidō Corps and used to separate criminals from their zanpakutō. I’ll have to be very careful. Any little slip and it could become a permanent break.”

“What? No!” Renji said, his heart nearly stopping at the thought. Just the few seconds of Byakuya’s spell had nearly broken him. He scrambled to his knees. “Just don’t,” he said, hating the begging edge in his voice as he raised his hands in surrender. “Just leave Zabimaru out of this. I’ll do whatever the fuck you want. I’ll do it willingly if you’ll let him go.”

Aizen smiled coldly. His voice a happy purr, “I thought you might.”

Renji found a spot on the floor to concentrate on. Lowering his gaze demurely, he let his hands rest on his thighs. He concentrated on breathing steadily and calming the wild ticking of his heart. What could Aizen want with him, naked? If it was just some perverted fucking, Renji could survive it. He could probably even act like he was into it, if need be. Pain he could take, too. 

Whatever. They just had to leave Zabimaru out of it.

“Looks like you was right. You got him ‘zactly where you want him,” Gin noted, as he leaned a hip against the wall, casually tying together the inner strings of his shitage. His eyes were their usual slits, but his grin was missing. “What’ca gonna do with him now, Taicho?”

Renji wondered that, too, but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes averted.

“Perhaps you’d like to play with him, Gin.”

No, they could skip that. Renji’d rather be fucked over by Aizen than Gin, any day.

Gin sounded similarly disinterested. “Me? What would I want with some ratty flea-bitten thing? I ain’t never been fond of dogs. ‘Specially never liked this one even when we had ‘im to ourselves all them years ago. You’re the one with the new foot fetish. He looks ready to lick whatever you ask.”

Foot fetish? 

“Yes, but that’s the problem, isn’t, Gin? Look at him sitting there like a teahouse boy, waiting for instruction. Where’s the snarl? Where’s the snap? It’s no fun is it to have him grovel without a fight.”

There was a soft sigh. Then, a blur of violence sent Renji sprawling. He rolled with the blow of the kick, but came up only to get knocked on to his back with a flying tackle. Gin was on top of him, hands on his throat. He’d aimed a punch right for Gin’s solar plexus before he remembered the captive Zabimaru. 

With a desperate cry, he pulled back in time. Despite how much his skin crawled to have Gin on top of him like this, Renji uncurled his fist and spread them, wide, on the dirt-packed floor.

Gin’s smile was back and it was pure evil. 

One hand left Renji’s throat to slowly trail down his body. “Ah, look at you, being such a good little boy,” Gin purred. His fingers spread over Renji’s chest; his thumb casually flicked Renji’s nipple. “You won’t even fight me. Something’s wrong with you, you know. Your head ain’t right. I wouldn’t whore myself out for Shinso.”

“Then you’re a fuck-all shinigami,” Renji snarled, through clenched teeth.

“Hmmm, you’re probably right about that,” Gin said, giving Renji’s nipple a hard enough tug that Renji couldn’t help but cry out and try to twist away. Gin seemed to watch him squirm appreciatively. Then, his fingers started tracing the shapes of Renji’s tattoos. “Why you all painted up, anyway? What’re all these pretty little lines for? They for that zanpakutō of yours, too?”

“Yes,” Renji hissed, turning his face away, as Gin drew nearer.

Gin chuckled. His breath close in Renji’s ear, tickling, as his hand trailed further down, splaying against stomach, “I guess you lucky it had all its limbs, huh? Would you have gnawed your own arm off to be like it?”

“Probably,” Renji agreed with a grunt, as Gin’s fingers tugged at his pubic hair.

A slender, skeletal hand closed around Renji’s cock. “Guess you’s lucky it’s a boy.”

“It’s both, actually,” Renji snarled, though he didn’t know why he admitted such a thing to Gin.

“’S that why you let your captain fuck you?” Gin’s hand was pulling at him, trying to get a rise, but the only thing Renji’s balls wanted to do was crawl up deep inside him.

Renji turned back to glare up into that horrible smile. “No, I let my captain fuck me because he’s pretty and I’m completely into him, you raging idiot.”

Fingers tightened around Renji’s throat. At the same time Gin viciously squeezed Renji’s balls, making him groan. Renji couldn’t keep his hands from going to Gin’s waist, his fingernails clawing into the silk of the half-open shitage. 

“Now, now,” Gin purred, “Remember your manners.”

Anywhere their bodies touched, Renji felt nothing but a desire to cringe away. There was no heat at all. He let out a wicked, victorious chuckle. “Whatever. You might as well just hurt me. You’re getting nothing else out of me, you dickwad.”

“Don’t you challenge me, fool,” Gin smiled. His tongue, which seemed just a little too long to Renji, flicked out like a snake’s. Then, he slowly licked his lips, moistening them. Reiatsu spiked pushing the air from Renji’s lungs. Suddenly too heavy to hold up, Renji’s hands fell from the shitage to the floor. Gin’s grin widened. “Now, you just stay still, and let’s see what happens.”

As Gin’s tongue played across his skin, Renji found he had to clench his teeth to keep from pushing him away violently. He turned his head away, only to look up into Aizen’s face. Aizen watched them impassively as Gin tortuously slowly crawled down Renji’s body with his tongue. It was wet and slimy and yet… when Gin started sucking his nipple shocks of pleasure came unbidden, shuddering through Renji. 

Renji’s hand slapped at the floor uselessly. He realized that, unconsciously, he was using the dojo’s signal that meant: stop, too much, that hurts, I don’t bend that way.

Something about this made Aizen smile.

Aizen still clutched Zabimaru, though his hand had relaxed and the scabbard touched the floor. 

You okay? Renji asked, his fingers crawling toward Zabimaru imploringly.

But there was no answer from the zanpakutō. Was it hiding in fear… or shame?

Renji’s cheeks burned and he squeezed his eyes shut. Gin’s tongue darted across Renji’s belly button. The sensation made him twitch and arch unconsciously. Renji didn’t understand what was going on. Why did these men even want to see him like this? He was nothing to either of them.

Gin’s fingers were like claws on Renji’s thighs, but his tongue—damn that twisty, clever thing. When it curled around Renji’s flagging cock, Renji sucked in a harsh breath through clenched teeth. He kept his eyes shut wishing he could pretend that it was someone else’s mouth covering him, but no one had ever gone down on him with this kind of skill. Never. Which was a fucking sad state of affairs.

“Yes,” Aizen purred, his voice smooth like silk. “You look beautiful like that.”

Renji had no idea if Aizen meant Gin or himself. It must be Gin. Renji was just lying there, letting Gin suck him off, his hands continuing to scrabble uselessly in the dirt floor, scratching and pawing like a wounded animal.

Gods, he wanted to kick Gin in the face. It’d be fucking easy, too. He could just lift his knees and smash the fucker between his thighs. 

Zabimaru let out a little proud hiss.

Yeah, Renji thought. Fuck this, Gin wants to blow me, then that sounds like a pretty good deal. 

Slowly, Renji did lift his legs—shit, if for no other reason than to thrust into Gin’s mouth. With a heave, Renji propped himself enough to look down on Gin’s progress and put one hand on Gin’s head. His hair was surprisingly soft, and Renji grabbed a fist full of it.

Renji snarled, “You know, I always thought you were an evil little cocksucker.”

Aizen laughed.

Gin choked a little as he pulled himself free. Renji ended up with a bit of Gin’s hair in his fist, but Gin didn’t even flinch as he said, “Can we kill him now, Taicho?”

“Oh, no. He’s just starting to get fun.”

Renji’s stomach clenched at the sound of pleasure in Aizen’s voice. 

As satisfying as it had been, Renji should have realized little act of rebellion wasn’t going to go unpunished. Gin seemed to sense it, too, as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand and gave Renji another satisfied, evil grin.

Even though his leverage kind of sucked, Renji pulled his arm back and smacked Gin hard in the nose. There was a satisfying crack and Gin’s head snapped back. Taking full advantage the surprise attack, Renji started kicking and hitting randomly, not even worrying too much about where he connected, just wailing the bloody fuck out of Gin. He was on top of Gin in a second.

Just about the time Gin started being able to fight back, there was a crackle of pinkish light and Renji felt a whip-like kidō cord wrap around his neck. He was jerked off Gin, like being yanked back on a leash. Spun around, he was slammed against the wall. What air he’d been able to get was forced from his lungs. Automatically, Renji’s hands rose to try to loosen the magical cord, only to be grabbed by magic and forced against the wall.

Spitting and snarling, he tried to push against the restraints, but it was useless. His hair was in front of his eyes, and everything he saw was blood red. Magic had him snared once again. 

“Ah,” Aizen said happily, “Finally, a beast to tame.”

“Beat him a little for me, at least, huh?” Gin spat as he pulled himself off the floor with a grimace. Renji was pleased to see the pained movements and that a snarl had replaced Gin’s usual grin. Blood dripped from his nose, leaving dark spatters on pale skin and shitage. “There’s gotta be something we can hit him with, a switch or something—“

“If it pleases you, go ahead,” Aizen said. While Gin hunted around for something, Aizen moved to stand in front of Renji. He still held Zabimaru lightly in his hand, but his other came up to grab a fist full of Renji’s hair. His eyes roamed up and down Renji’s body, stopping to smile at his weak erection. “You’re losing your touch, Gin.” Releasing his hair, Aizen’s hand moved down and slapped Renji’s cock.

The shock of pain brought tears to Renji’s eyes.

Smiling, Aizen did it again.

This time, it was hard enough that the stinging slap made Renji cry out.

“Oh, whatever you’re doing there, Taicho, it’s very nice. Like music to my ears,” Gin sang from somewhere in the warehouse.

Aizen smirked. Slapping his cock again, Aizen said, “You should really apologize to Gin, Renji.”

Through the pain, Renji growled, “He can suck my dick!”

“Oh, it’s going to be a long and painful night for you, isn’t it?”

Stinging slaps that never seemed to end dragged sobs from Renji’s throat, but then somewhere, in some far distance, he heard Byakuya calling his name. 

“Renji?”

Renji’s eyes snapped open to see Byakuya leaning over him. His inky hair spilled over his face and he wore a light purple kimono decorated with snow white swans. They were in the bed at the estate.

Renji blinked again. The hair looked exactly like it had the last time he thought he was waking up with Byakuya, but now he wore a kimono.

Could this be real?

Byakuya was frowning at him with concern in his gray eyes. “You were shouting obscenities,” Byakuya said somewhat irritably. “And you hit me.”

What?

Byakuya rubbed his shoulder and continued, “Were you fighting Aizen? You said his name.”

“Wait, I hit you?” Renji said, his voice scratchy from sleep. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t fuss over me, Renji,” Byakuya said, pulling away when Renji sat up and reached out to try to see if there was bruising. “This is hardly the first time you’ve awoken me this way.”

Renji’s fingers curled into the silk sheets. They were real, right? Fuck, how would he know? “Tell me something,” Renji said. “Is Aizen in prison? We did defeat him, didn’t we?”

“ _We_ sat in Hueco Mundo,” Byakuya said somewhat bitterly. “I believe Kurosaki defeated Aizen.”

Only Byakuya would split hairs like that. Renji rolled his eyes. “I mean ‘we’ like ‘our team,” he said. With a relieved sigh, Renji collapsed back into the soft, slick sheets. “It really is you, thank fate.”

Byakuya had reached over to turn down the lamp, but stopped. “Are you all right?”

“It was… worst nightmare ever,” Renji murmured, as he fluffed up his pillow, intending to turn around and go back to sleep.

“Do you need…? Shall I hold you?”

For a brief second, Renji froze. What? Byakuya offering a hug? Could this be an illusion? But, then Byakuya’s arms slipped around his waist so very… awkwardly. Stiffly, he gave Renji a little squeeze.

No, Renji thought with a happy smile, this is real.


End file.
